


Missing

by DetectiveSnickers



Category: Wallander (UK TV)
Genre: CCTV, Coffee, Computers, Gen, Head Injury, Knife Wounds, Missing Persons, Pain, Paranoia, Scary, Sleep Deprivation, Stabbing, improvised medicine, improvised stitches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-11-27 00:30:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20939318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DetectiveSnickers/pseuds/DetectiveSnickers
Summary: The Ystad police have seen a lot. Kidnappings, robberies, and  murders galore. But how will they react when their own start going missing one by one?(Also posted on Wattpad) STORY IN PROGRESS





	1. Chapter 1

The Ystad police had seen a lot. We had seen murders, kidnappings, robberies, runaways, the works. But none of us were prepared for this…  
*******  
I pulled my leather jacket on over my striped turtleneck sweater and zipped it, taking one last look in the mirror. There were dark circles under my heterochromatic eyes (one caramel, the other pale green) and I was much paler than usual. I looked hollow. About two days before, Ann-Britt had gone missing. I hadn't slept for at least 46 hours, 46 hours filled with agonizing worry, and it was taking its toll.

I took a deep breath and dragged my eyes away from the mirror. I had to focus. My friend was in trouble. I exited the bathroom and stepped into the hallway, snatching a handgun from the side table and tucking it into the waistband of my pants. I wasn't taking any chances. I took my police I.D., labeled with my name, Detective Olivia F. Sjöberg, and stuffed it in my pocket. I looked at my watch and gasped. I was late for work.

I drove so fast I could barely remember the drive to the police station. I sat down at my desk shakily, sucking down coffee. I opened my computer, letting it reboot, and let my head rest in my hand. 

The next thing I knew, a hand was gripping my shoulder and shaking me awake. I jerked upright in my seat, eyes darting wildly until they landed on the gruff-looking detective standing above me.

“Have you seen Magnus?” Kurt asked raspily. I cleared my throat.

“No,” I answered, my voice just as gravelly. My stomach twisted and a spike of panic shot through me. Something was wrong. I could feel it.  
“What if he-” I started.

“Let's not jump to-”

“It's not improbable though, is it? They could be targeting us!” I protested, cutting him off. 

“He probably just overslept...or, uh...,” Wallander said. I blew out a long breath and ran my fingers through my short, messy hair. Maybe he was right. This lack of sleep was really starting to get to me. Paranoia went along with the job...or maybe that was just me, but lack of sleep only exacerbated the problem.

“Yeah,” I mumbled. I squinted my blurry eyes at my computer screen and began to sift through the CCTV feeds for the past few days.


	2. Chapter 2

My stomach rumbled and I glanced at the clock. I started and blinked several times, wondering if I had read it correctly. The clock said it was 4:00 p.m. I had been sitting at the computer all day? I hadn’t found a trace of evidence. Not one  _ lick. _ And I hadn’t seen Magnus. I stood up and my vertebrae made a distinctive crunch. I ignored my stiff muscles and made my way to the chief of police’s office. I knocked on the door and poked my head in. Lisa Holgersson looked up from her paperwork at the sound. I licked my dry lips.

“Did Detective Martinsson call in sick today?” I asked, wincing internally at how bad my voice sounded. Chief Holgersson gave me a concerned frown.

“No, he didn’t, why?” she asked. 

“He um…,” I swallowed and shook my head, “He didn’t show up for work this morning, and I haven’t seen him all day. Considering what happened to Ann-Britt...if Magnus is missing…” Holgersson held up a hand.

“Don’t jump to conclusions, Olivia,” she told me.

“Kurt said the same thing to me, but it just seems too coincidental. Magnus doesn’t show up to work two days after Ann-Britt goes missing? I don’t like it. Someone could be targeting the team,” I said firmly, my voice rising several octaves.

“You’re right, you’re right,” she conceded. I fumbled in the pocket of my leather jacket for my mobile with stiff fingers. I dialed Magnus’s number, put it on speakerphone, and held my breath.

_ Brrrrr…Brrrrr….Brrrrrrrr….Brrr _

_ “You have reached Detective Magnus Martinsson’s mobile. I will get back to you as soon as possible,”.  _ The prerecorded message then switched to an automated voice.  _ “At the tone, please record your message.”  _ I hung up growling in frustration, but worry, not anger, churned my stomach.

“You and Kurt go over to his place,” Holgersson ordered. I gave her a sharp nod and exited the room in a rush.

*******

The car ride there was silent, filled with nervous tension so thick you could cut it with a katana from my sword and knife collection. Kurt was driving, and when we pulled into Magnus’s driveway, I immediately knew something was not right. The house gave off an unshakeable eerie feeling.The front door was half open and it looked as if the door handle had been forcibly removed. I shared a look with Wallander and gulped. I pulled the handgun I had out of my waistband and popped the passenger door open. Not saying a word, we crept onto the porch.

Wallander nodded at me and I slowly, tediously pushed the door open. It gave a creak of protest and I couldn’t stop myself from thinking that it was such a horror movie cliche. Wallander inhaled sharply and I was about to ask why when I saw what he was looking at. There was a smear of drying blood on the wall. I clenched my jaw and we stepped into the house, beginning to search for signs of life.

My eyes darted around, my gun sweeping from side to side as I searched. My eyes scanned the kitchen table and what I saw made me freeze. I tucked the gun back into the waistband of my pants and snapped on a pair of blue nitrile gloves. I picked up the piece of paper resting on the table and what I saw written there made my breath hitch.

Wallander yelled something along the lines of, “All clear!”, but I barely heard him as the room started to spin. 

“Olivia?” Kurt asked, “What is it?” His voice sounded far away. I looked at him with wide eyes and held up the piece of paper I was holding.

The note read:  _ They say Detective Sjöberg is next. _

And it was written in Martinsson’s handwriting. _ _


	3. Chapter 3

“We’ll send a uniform home with you,” Holgersson was saying, as I sat in her office.

“But I can take care of myself-” I started.

“That may be the case,” the Chief of Police said, “...when you’ve had enough sleep. It’s obvious you haven’t slept since Ann-Britt went missing. In order to help your friends, and make sure you don’t get kidnapped yourself, you need to take care of yourself. Take the rest of the day off, you looked like death warmed over.” I snapped my jaw shut and breathed a sigh of defeat. My joints creaked as I stood up. 

I left the room, only allowing myself to yawn once my back was turned. I tugged my leather jacket tighter around me as I made my way to my car, which a uniformed police officer was standing next to. I gave her a crooked smile and gestured for her to get in while I unlocked the doors. I slid into my seat and jammed the key into the ignition.

“You new here? I don’t think I’ve seen you before,” I said, looking over my shoulder as I backed out of my parking space. The officer shifted in her seat, looking uncomfortable. I furrowed an eyebrow, realizing I probably didn’t sound the friendliest due to my tiredness and phrasing. 

“Yeah,” she said flatly, “Transferred.”

“Mmm,” I said, “This is definitely an interesting place. You’ll see a lot of stuff going on around here… what was your name?”

“Freya Lindqvist,” she answered. I smiled and said, “Freya is my middle name.” 

“Really?” Officer Lindqvist asked. I nodded and pulled into the car park of a grocery store.

“I need to get some groceries, I hope you don’t mind.”

“No, I’ll just stay here if you don’t mind,” Freya said. I nodded absently, fumbling for my wallet in the glove compartment. I snatched it and ran into the store.

********

I was in the checkout line when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I whirled around to find a young, rough-looking man holding out my wallet to me. He was a bit taller than me, with tangled dishwater-blonde hair and dark eyes that I couldn’t make out the color of.

“You dropped this,” he said, his foul breath blowing in my face as he spoke.

“Oh, er...thanks,” I said awkwardly.

*********

“Nice collection,” Freya said, looking at the many swords and knives mounted on my wall. I gave her a tired smile.

“I’ve always had somewhat of a fascination with knives. I guess it started when my father gave me my first pocket knife,” I said, starting a pot of boiling water for tea.

“You had a good relationship with your father?” she asked. I shrugged.

“Eh, teenage years were rough, but pretty good, yeah. What teen’s relationship with their parents is perfect?” I said, then gestured around my living space. “Make yourself at home.” I wandered over to my bedroom, only intending to toss my leather jacket on a chair. I stared at my queen-sized bed.  _ Just five minutes. Five.  _ I collapsed into bed, not even bothering to take off my jacket or shoes.

What a grave mistake that turned out to be.

I woke up to Officer Lindqvist’s face hovering over mine. I soon realized she was pressing a sickly-sweet smelling cloth over my mouth.  _ This is what you get for trusting people, Sjoberg.  _ I pulled my leg up and shoved her in the chest as hard as I could. She flew backwards and crashed into the drywall.  _ Good. It will leave evidence if I don’t escape.  _

Lindqvist began to sit up and I snatched my heavy bedside lamp. I cocked it over my shoulder and said, “Give it up, Freya, you only have a measly piece of cloth.”

“Wrong,” she said, pulling out two throwing knives from my own knife collection and flinging one at me. Me and my big mouth. She had mediocre knife skills, though. It sailed lazily through the air and I snatched it. In a blur, I flung it back at her, flicking my wrist as I did. Her eyes widened and she lunged forward. The knife embedded itself in the wall, millimetres from where her head had been before. Freya got closer and I stumbled backward, but it was too late. So I did the only thing I could and smashed the lamp over her head as I felt the cold metal of the second knife as it slide into my flesh. 

I let out a cry of agony and everything went black.


End file.
